Cold fire
by elbereth telemnar
Summary: There is much chaos and depression when Thranduil is given a letter, being told that his son has been taken captive. His saviour is wise and learned...but she has a troubled and bitter past...please review and no flames because if you want to flame don't
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any particular part of Tolkien's works (His lands, characters nor any other content you may recognize from any of his wide range of novels.)   
  
Cold fire  
  
Chapter one: Mission objective  
  
Thanduil watched his wife ascend from her throne and leave the room, she was shuddering with desperate tears rolling down her cheeks.   
  
"Ever since that message arrived, my wife has been gravely ill with dispair. I fear for her life...and also my son's. It the letter it addressed his status, that he was alive, though he would not remain living for much longer."  
  
"May I read this message Lord?"  
  
Asked the young woman, her heart pounding in her chest. Thanduil nodded, took a stained envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.  
  
Laureldaer's eyes skimmed over the contents of the letter briefly, she did not need to know what it said, what the kidnapper had to say was not important.  
  
"This is ancient Quenyan, who ever wrote it must be wise and learned..."  
  
She mused and studied the text with closer concentration, evaluating the wording with the most detailed inspection. From the curves to the splurges of ink staining the paper to the texture of the paper it was written upon.   
  
"This ink contains traces of ash from the mountains south of your kingdom..."  
  
"The mountains of shadow? But that would mean..."  
  
"Aye my lord, your son was indeed taken by night riders."  
  
The elf king sighed as a reply and buried his face in his hands.  
  
"Then it is as I feared...the rebel Orcs have kidnapped my son."  
  
"I suspect that they are the perpetrators behind the attack on prince Legolas' hunting party but my Lord, the villain who wrote this warning was not an Orc. It was a woman, in her mid hundreds..."  
  
"A little young to conduct the kidnapping of a prince wouldn't you say?"  
  
"I suppose it may be young but you forget my lord that I am younger."  
  
"How do you know it was a woman who wrote this letter?"  
  
Laureldaer held the paper closer to his Elvish eyes  
  
"Notice the colour of the indents here, they are like crescent moons. The indent of a fingernail and the polish that the evil women wear in vanity on their nails. I could be wrong, but so far all I can do is gamble my guess."  
  
Thanduil stood abruptly from his throne with anger in his tone.  
  
"I cannot bet my son's life upon a gamble of yours guard of the Dunedain."  
  
"I am your only hope my lord, please do not fret. If I leave this place early morning then his trail will still live in the air and I can follow his scent."  
  
The elf king sank back into his chair and felt a pain spread throughout his body.  
  
"Forgive me Lady Telemnar, I only fear so greatly for his safety. Aside his mother he is the most important thing in my life and I have never been able to tell him that. I can only pray that he is not slain."  
  
"I understand my good Lord and worry not, I shall return your son to you."   
  
"Thank you"   
  
The evening stars still shone with a faded light when Laureldaer departed from the dark woods early the next day. She listened to the absence of sound as she passed through the boarder lines and outside the lands of the Rohirrim.   
  
"You there!"  
  
Laureldaer whispered into her horses' ear to halt and she turned to the voice. She had not been riding for the space of twelve hours without interruption.  
  
"What business brings you to these lands?"  
  
He asked gravely, upon his helmet there was a carved horse...he was the nephew of Theoden, former king of Rohan and brother to its new leader Eowyn.   
  
"My business be hushed to all those whom are not involved. It may bring terrible luck to many people if I do not succeed."  
  
"What business brings you to these lands?"  
  
He repeated a little impatiently.   
  
"Thanduil's son has been taken prisoner, I suspect in the ruin lands of Mordor, so there I shall ride to bring him home."  
  
"Prince Legolas has been taken into that dark place?"  
  
Asked Eomer, his features drawn with concern. Laureldaer nodded gravely and watched him pause with slight distrust.   
  
"How can I know that you are an honest rider?"  
  
"You have not the time to doubt me Eomer, every passing hour the prince grows weaker and I can feel it. Would you rather his death than to trust me?"  
  
He was silent for a long while and when he finally did speak he asked;  
  
"How did you know my name?"  
  
"Your helmet told me your name."  
  
"And what is yours?"  
  
"Mine is Laureldaer Telemnar and my horse Yavanna."  
  
He bowed his head and tugged the reigns of his own chestnut coloured mare.  
  
"Had I the time I would attend this mission along side you lady Telemnar, I fear that there are many patrolling Orcs along the boarders of my city and so I must bid you a hasty farewell. Need you another to ride with you?"  
  
She shook her head  
  
"Any other would greatly slow my speed, already have I ridden a day from Mirkwood. If I use the full speed of Yavanna then we shall arrive in Mordor within the next two days."  
  
"Mean you without sleep or food?"  
  
"Aye, not essential rest stops. Only water do I plan to use on the forward journey. Our pace may be lessened on the return journey depending on the manner of my return."  
  
Eomer bowed and continued.   
  
"Be sure to send word to me of the prince's status and also know that you are welcome in Rohan at your time of need."  
  
"I thank you Sir."  
  
And without another word Laureldaer sped across the grassy terrain, whispering encouraging words of haste to Yavanna.  
  
By nightfall Laureldaer had began to pass the brown lands and by the time the next night fell over the lands, the ash mountains were in her sights.   
  
"Here you shall wait for me Yavanna, and if I do not return within the next two weeks then speed to your home. There is food and water in this bag enough to last you, apples, I packed them especially for you."   
  
She stroked the mane of the pure white horse and kissed her nose.  
  
"Worry not my friend, I shall make an extra effort to return."  
  
It took a further three days to pass the labyrinth of rock and ash which lay before the gates of Bara-dur. A lot longer than Laureldaer could afford, she could feel her destination lose its point at every passing hour.  
  
Behind the cover of rock, Laureldaer watched the ghost lands of the past war of the ring in its silence. The great gorge that was forged by the destruction of Souron's evil and many hoped it would be the end to all else which stood against their peaceful society. But they were wrong though it was true that no new wars had sprung from the ruin of this she saw before her but there was still much evil in Middle-Earth's lands.  
  
"Linger in the shadows, what say you to your treachery?"  
  
It was a voice that sent a shock of shivers along her spine as the words reached her ears. Slowly and carefully she turned to face the intruder to her hiding place. Before her stood a tall and menacing figure dressed in black robes.  
  
"Why, if it were not the fallen god of a king. What brings your ghost to this place witch-king?"  
  
He shifted beneath his cloak and continued to speak with a degrading tone.   
  
"Fallen God? Why do you mock me so my dear wife?"  
  
Laureldaer glared at the ghost and spat at his feet.   
  
"There is nothing of you to praise is why I mock you so..."  
  
She said. She inwardly shuddered at those childhood days...of the corruption taking over her father...her marriage to the monster who stood before her very eyes. Wife to a witch-king at fifteen years old, what more could a young girl despise? She never had freedom nor did she have any love. Her past was as cold and grey as the rock she stood upon.  
  
"And now a girl of nineteen years..."  
  
His whispering voice seemed to echo throughout the mountains.   
  
"...my little flower is blossoming. My how you have grown up into such a lovely adult."  
  
"I have been an adult since I was ten years old."  
  
She didn't mean to break out like she did, but it seemed as though it were something inevitable. These words falling past her tongue as if they had a mind of their own.  
  
"I dearly regret that it was not me who pushed that blade through your hideous face."  
  
He chuckled, it was a sound whisping from deep within his throat.  
  
"But you were not..."  
  
He began, she could hear the smile upon his face as he said these words to her, they made his presence seem darker than what it truly was.   
  
"...I know, because I felt it within you. You were still such a child. If only I were caporal my love...then I would feel just how good these passing years have been to you."  
  
Laureldaer inwardly shuddered,"I am no longer yours you monster. I never really was, you owned me witch king but you never had me...not once."  
  
She turned away from him then.  
  
"Don't turn your back on me Laureldaer!" He called out furiously "I will own you for as long as you draw breath and I will never let you forget that!"  
  
She hadn't noticed that her tears that burnt in her eyes were running down her face, she scrubbed them away with her sleeve and continued on walking through the miserable land until the menacing tower of Bara-dur faced her. She seemed so small and insignificant against this back drop, like an ant before a giant wall of stone.   
  
"Wind speed, Master Greenleaf is still among the living but his strength is failing son of darkness shall not overcome, I will not allow it." It was a growl which came directly from her heart, she would not allow the darkness to steal this elven prince, not this time. 


	2. Bitterness

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord Of The Rings

Author's note: No flamers, I don't know how I can be any more clear with that fact. I respect Tolkien and his work if you do not like what you read here, please don't continue to read it. I have become tiresome of flamers, they bring out the worst in me. Only review if you have a compliment or gentle critics on my story. 

Chapter two: Bitterness

The iron bit harshly into his wrists, it was so tight that he was surprised that the blood still made its way through to his fingertips. Heavy clouds circled above him, like a canvas doused in wine which had been streached out over the stars.

It was always that dark here.

His clothes had been stripped from his body when he was first taken here, bleeding welts upon his back, his arms and even his face. His limbs had become heavy and somewhat dopey, he found that he could hardly tremble anymore. Most probabally due to the absence of the strength she had taken from him.

"Speak of the devil?" She purred in her thick and seductive voice. She ran her fingers across his bare chest, her painted fingernails leaving a trail of blood behind. "How are you this evening my dear Legolas?" She asked him quietly, she was smiling as she spoke he could hear it in her words.

He didn't answer.

"Oh come now, you cannot ignore me forever." She grinned and trailed kisses down the bleeding wounds on his shoulder blade. He flinched at her lips against his skin and let his head fall against his chest.

"Why not?"

She laughed, a cruel ringing sound which echoed throughout the large dome-like room. "Oh my beautiful, you have no idea how childish you sound right now". He forced a smile to his lips and rose his head to look at her. He did not speak at all, he merely stared at her.

"You're not going to talk to me?"

He remained silent and closed his eyes as she began to kiss his flesh, her arm snaked around his neck. "Would you kiss me, prince of Mirkwood?" He just stared at her, into her deep violet coloured eyes and said nothing. She grinned and said "I thought that might be your answer" pressed her lips up against his and licked the blood from his bottom lip, pulled away standing in the dim glow of the candle light and it spilled down over her naked breasts. The light crept through her mass of raven dark hair. It caught on the golden chain about her throat and she smiled at him. Knowing that Legolas looked upon her, those scarlet-painted lips curled cruelly into a bitter twisted grin.

He as usual had nothing to say to her and looked past her to the window with its ugly black iron bars. She had guessed what he was looking at and smirked "Should I have it boarded up dear prince? Disallow the light to touch your beautiful flesh ever again?"

She chuckled as she left the room, closing the heavy doors behind her. They were beautifully carved, this place had once been a place of wonder of joy he could feel it in his very soul. He wanted so desperatley to see his mother and father again. To know the feel of grass blades beneath his bare feet or the feel of the sun on his face. His blonde hair resembled something similar to bunched up rat tails, his beautiful elegant features streaked with dirt and the water that she had washed his skin with.

His blue eyes had lost their lusture because he was tired and alone. He was weary but still determined not to die. He hated her too much to let her defeat him and he had scarcely hated anybody in his life. The sigh which drew slowly from his lips caused a sharp pain in his ribs. They were badly bruised and perhaps his bones were broken he didn't really know.

The chains about his ankles and wrists were attatched to a link on the high roof, he stared up at it trying to figure out how to break the chain. Could he concentrate his energy enough to attempt to escape? He fought against this drugged feeling settled upon his tired legs and gripped the shackles, he climbed them with great difficulty and the ceiling was so high. He would not give into this pain he had decided secretly in his mind. When he reached the top of the chain he pushed his feet against the roof and coupled his weight with gravity.

The link in the roof broke free and Legolas fell a great distance to the ground. He groaned a little out of pain and pushed himself up off of the ground. The door looked quite heavy to push open with the little strength he could muster.

Legolas limped over to the stone doors only to be knocked back with a eavy wooden club. 

"You can't escape me, my love". 


End file.
